There was a man who said not what he did, and did not what he said. His head went east and his body went west. All those in the east heard him and shared his marvelous words. All those in the west watched his actions, in horror they watched. The east applauded him. The west reprimanded him. 

There came a day, when one from the east visited the west. He told of the man who had much to say. The west was amazed! So amazed, that many from the west traveled to the east to hear the man who had much to say. Allured by his words, they married them, and children were born. Without bodies they were born. 

Yet there was a detective who was skeptical of the man who had much to say, so she stole a sample of his hair one night. She discovered a match with a man in the west who did much damage. She cried to the west and the east, “Come! See a man who did much damage!” 

All came and saw, and she explained, “This man is the same man who allured you with his words. A man who did not what he said and said not what he did!” Miraculously, they believed her. They wanted to believe her, for their bodies were nowhere to be found and they were weary. 

“We sing and shout, but there is no dancing. We laugh and cry, but no one wipes away our tears. We are inspired and longing, but to fruition none comes. Can you save us, detective?”

“I cannot,” sorrowfully she replied, “For I too am one who says not what I do and does not what I say.”

Yet, as she spoke, a rumble started in the distance. From the west it came. Into a roar it grew. At once, the people knew they were becoming people who said what they do. As the rumble became the roar, a voice whispered softly, loud enough to be heard by all:

“Now that you have died, live.”

The art piece in this blog is from a series by Susan Richter called “Vulnerability of Being”. You can find more from this series by clicking here.